Between Two Storms
by Lizicia
Summary: 'There is always someone who's out to get Michael. And Fiona knows this isn't his fault but she also wonders if they'll ever be able to just be.' Fiona/Michael, post-6x10, summer finale.


**A/N:** This story came to me after the last episode. It just saddens me to think how many times Fiona's heard Michael promise to get out of the game and then, inevitably, something always goes wrong. I would prefer the writers didn't mess with her head so much but what can you do? Write fanfiction to make it all better, of course.

Takes place after the summer finale.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything.

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"_After I get Gray, I'll leave, I'm out."_

"_The CIA?"_

"_Out of all of it."_

"_Don't say that if you don't mean it."_

"_I do."_

And of course he meant it, Fiona knows that. But the problem is, Michael always means it and it always goes awry in one way or the other.

First it was about the man who burned him. Then, it became about the organization which had him burned and tracking all of them down, amongst many twists and turns and false alarms and tricks. When it finally seemed like he had what he wanted – his job at the CIA – Max's death and the ensuing chaos ensured there would be another target. Next up on the list was Anson, tricking them both, making both their lives miserable and almost succeeding in breaking them apart. And when that seemed to be the final act, Michael's last battle, someone killed Nate. And the circle started all over again with Gray whose capture was supposed to be the end and of course, Tom Card just had to try to kill them.

She isn't sure there will ever be a way out of it. There is always someone who's out to get Michael, someone he needs to find or kill or both. And, rationally, Fiona knows this isn't Michael's fault, he's not trying to stay in the game which may cost him his life. But her irrational side is upset and hurt and angry that they're stuck in Panama with the CIA hunting them and her dreams of them having a normal life for a change have been put on the back burner again. A day in the life of Michael Westen and, by default, Fiona Glenanne.

"We should be safe here for the night if we're acting on the assumption that Tom thinks we're all dead anyway."

The team – their small, dysfunctional and yet perfectly functioning family – is gathered in another abandoned building, this time with no backup and no ammunition. Jesse and Sam have checked the perimeter and now they're gathered around with Michael, each man thinking of the next step.

"We have six, maybe seven hours, Mike, and you know it. He'll send a confirmation team first thing in the morning, hoping to find our remains and write up a report about your rogue team going on an unauthorized mission and getting killed in the process. No doubt he's already drafted up a memo and is thinking of an obituary." Sam is ever the optimist.

"And they'll find nothing, except DNA evidence of Barry in the car. He can spin it anyway he wants to and before long we'll be America's number one enemy. I know that, Sam." Michael's voice is tense, his body language also betraying the hurt he's carefully masking, trying not to show to anyone what this twist in his life's story cost him.

"The CIA, Interpol, hell even the Panama police force will be looking for us. We need something more than this building, Mike. There will be a strike team sent to Panama as soon as he realizes we escaped." Jesse chimes in, and the three ex-spies exchange worried glances. Their odds are getting slimmer by the minute.

"We'll get to that in the morning. Right now we're running on several hours of fatigue and we're in no position to fight them anyway, unless we're cornered and I really hope we won't be. Let's just...take a breather."

Fiona's surprised to hear Michael be so...so human, for a change, not pushing them to go forward and allowing for some rest. When his statement is followed by them all leaving in different directions, she naturally goes after him. She's there to be with him and not let her irrational anger get the best of her because the day has already been a special kind of hell.

"I'm sorry about Card, Michael." He stands at a window, looking out to the sky, careful not to be seen from the street. She moves close but doesn't invade his personal space too much, doesn't try to touch him until she knows he will appreciate it.

"The sky as blue as in Ireland, right, Fi?" His voice is softer now, tinged with every emotion he's trying hard not to show. But she hears it anyway, hears how much he was hurt, how he's still trying to wrap his head around this situation and make sense of something which shouldn't be making sense. The man who trained him, who he thought of as a father figure, ordered his death.

"It is. Though I never remember the weather being this warm over there." She's not sure where he is going with this but thinks it best to follow his lead, wherever it may take them.

"I'm sorry, Fi." She definitely wasn't expecting it to go there.

"Michael, what are you talking about? You don't have to apologize to me."

He turns quickly towards her and the anger she sees in his face is frightening but she knows it's not directed at her. "The hell I don't, Fi! You're stuck in a country we have no business being in, because of me, running for your life and for what?"

He voices thoughts she was just thinking herself and it surprises her. She's always thought Michael doesn't pay too much attention to her feelings or inner thoughts, both from being so introverted and from being so well-trained. He doesn't have the time to notice when she's upset but tries to hide it from everyone. Or so she thought.

"I'm here for you, Michael, haven't I told you this enough? This is not something I have no business being in because you're here. And me, by your side, it's been like that for a long time now and I don't plan on quitting because...because it's always been you and me. And then the rest."

"But you wonder if this really is enough. I know you, Fi. I keep promising you to end this and it just never ends, I keep breaking my promise."

It's more than they usually say to each other. They always have depth in their relationships, they've always known how inextricably connected they are but usually, those things are never voiced. And maybe, just maybe, this Panamanian adventure is what they need to come clean or move closer to the emotional state which was brought on when she was so roughly taken away from him.

"Fine, I won't lie to you, Michael. It's not the easiest thing in the world but I don't regret it. And sometimes, yes, it does feel like a never-ending quest but the pros outweigh the cons."

"What pros? This is not your fight and I keep on dragging you down with me."

She thinks this must be Nate's death catching up with him, combined with the realization of a horrible betrayal because Michael's never so honest, never so straightforward and never so guilt-ridden. Or maybe he always is and never shows her, so afraid of being vulnerable and getting hurt, like his childhood taught him and what CIA training reinforced in him.

"You are not dragging me down. I've tried to leave, Michael, but I always come back, I never leave for good."

"You come back because I give you no choice. You wanted to go back home and I blew it for you, got my cover blown and now you can never see Ireland again."

Fiona lets out a disbelieving laugh. That should be long behind them and even if she misses Ireland, even if she sometimes thinks about her mother and her siblings, she is certain she wouldn't have left the States for good, with or without the unsolicited help of Thomas O'Neill's witch hunt.

"I came back because I wanted to, because I needed to. I don't need to go to Ireland to leave you, Michael. I could go anywhere in this country – and it is a big country – and never look back. But I don't and that has nothing to do with you."

Now he looks surprised, like she's robbed him of the answers he's been supplying relentlessly and doesn't say anything. It finally feels like she's achieved some sort of equilibrium and she decides to say this once and for all, and not be deterred.

"I don't leave because I like what we're doing. Because I can help people and maybe forget who I was, forget what I did for the IRA and how many illegal weapons have passed through my hands, without me asking what they would be used for. I make amends like Jesse and Sam and like you and whether you want to hear this or not, we're doing a good thing. And I wouldn't trade it, I couldn't just stop."

He regards her pensively, weighing each of her words and trying them out and manages to find no flaw, no weakness, nothing to turn her words around with. She takes away his resistance by simply saying all the things he's been thinking and not letting him wallow in blame and guilt like he's trying to.

"And more than that, Michael. We're not the easiest when it comes to...personal issues. We're no good at this." This manages a small smile from him as he remembers when the words were spoken at a different time, when it seemed like he would lose her and yet they managed to hold on to each other.

"I'm not saying I don't sometimes wish things were easier and more normal. But we wouldn't be who we are if we were normal. For all your faults and no matter how many times I think about Ireland or how many times I've tried to walk away from you, I can't and you know why."

"Because you love me." He whispers those words and the resistance is broken, she can see and hear it. And she isn't afraid of those words anymore, isn't afraid to let it show just how much he keeps her by his side and how she could never end this, never leave him.

"Yes. And you love me." Michael's never said those words to her directly, only in past tense when he explained Samantha to her. She doesn't have to hear them to believe in them; she only has to look at what he's done in her name to know the truth. Saying them like it's a fact, like they're both aware of it, makes it so much easier to accept, for both of them.

"And we'll get Card, Michael, I know we will. And he will answer for everything he did and everything he had to do with this, with Gray, with Nate."

He nods, words never reaching him but the shine in his eyes has dimmed now, emotions let out and cooled. He isn't a ticking bomb any more but a block of C-4, with the capability to explode at the right time under the right circumstances. This is the Michael she knows and she can breathe again.

He reaches for her wordlessly, gathering her in his embrace, neither speaking. He doesn't offer any promises this time but she knows what he's thinking, knows he really does want out of this, at least out of the betrayal, the hunt for his life. And as long as she can, she will be right there with him, helping him do just that. This is the calm between two storms, just the two of them and then the rest.

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**A/N: I really think they should talk a bit more to each other. Maybe this seemed uncharacteristic of Michael, maybe not but either way, do let me know!**


End file.
